When the next set steps out, it clicks. Women. They move in one by one—hips swaying, smiles practiced, draped in delicate, colorful lingerie like they’re walking a runway instead of… whatever the hell this is. They line up beside the stage, poised, waiting. And just like that—I get my answer. My breath stalls. “Now, the contracted selections,” the woman announces, her smile never wavering. “Viola, twenty-three.” What the actual hell— The first woman steps up, climbing onto the stage. She turns, poses, shifts under the light alluring movements, displaying herself from every angle almost eager. Like she’s done this before. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Or she’s doing exactly whatever was dictated to her. Either way, there’s no hesitation. No visible reluctance. My hands start to shake. So this is it. This is the world Julian warned me about. This is the world Shaun had built around himself. Why am I even surprised? What else would a psychopathic murderer surroun
Last Updated : 2026-05-12 Read more